


Concluding Things Together

by NutheadGee



Series: Partners And Lovers [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Humour, Iconique and Legendary, M/M, More Soft Boys, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Couple, Sarcasm, Smut, They Are SO Badass, They Love And Care And Cherish Each Other, They Slay Together And Stay Together, pun intended, they are the best, when will your faves ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 10:06:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11644284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NutheadGee/pseuds/NutheadGee
Summary: Reaper is not amused. The first mission went smoothly, and he was proud of his team, and especially his lover, for working together and making sure everything was a success. Things seemed to going really well, until some greedy assholes decided to throw a wrench into their plans, meaning he had to go back to King's Row and clean this mess. He thought he was done cleaning messes when he joined Talon, but here he was. To think the traitors were Council members too.At the end of the day, missions, no matter how dreary, always ended well when your lover was there to cheer you up. Reaper could do this a lot more often if this was the end result.





	Concluding Things Together

Reaper was contemplating if the cons of murdering every single imbecile in this room would outnumber the pros, because despite the fact that it was  _ very  _ clear they a mole in their ranks, these pieces of shit still thought it was worth debating the fact that they had a mole in their ranks.

“That’s impossible,” the idiot three seats to the left shrieked, his eyeballs nearly bulging out of his skull. What was his name again? Reaper couldn’t bother himself to remember, though he was aware that he was Spanish. “We cannot have a mole in the council. Everyone is always exceptionally screened, loyalties thoroughly tested. We all know our roles in the organisation and our end goals and ambitions are all aligned. How can there be a traitor in our midst?”

If Reaper could roll his eyes one more time he was sure they would literally roll right out of his skull. Why didn’t he just call them and inform them individually? At the end of the day if this needed him to go to the field - and it most likely would - none of these bureaucrats  would do anything, but they would just go back to their villas and continue drowning in their opulence. The only reason he probably hadn’t murdered them yet was because most of them were a great source of funds to Talon. He really needed to start getting some of Talon operatives into the boards of these companies. At least if he came across the occasional entitled brat CEO and he murdered them, he would still guarantee their financial continuation.

Reaper had called this meeting first thing in the morning because at some point in the middle of the night, he had gotten private correspondence from Sombra that the payload they had gone to King’s Row to get for her six weeks prior had been delayed. Of course he was also aware that Doomfist had received the same message, but he automatically realised that the most likely result of that delay was an inside job, a sabotage. It was only the council that was aware of that particular mission, and even then it was only he and Doomfist that knew the details of it. They had memorised it, not putting it in the system because there was a risk it would be discovered.

He honestly wasn’t expecting much, but he had made some observations. For once, these snails had made it to the meeting point in record time. Reaper, as usual, was not a man (being?) to mince his words. He was blunt, telling them there was a traitor in their midst, and they better admit who they were. The earlier they did, the better their chances of surviving and the less severe their punishment. There were a lot of (unnecessarily dramatic, if he had to say so himself) gasps going round, before everyone begun arguing and somewhat subtly trying to blame each other for being the alleged traitor.

Reaper, however, observed. He simply sat in his seat and looked at everything that was going on around him: how people were reacting and responding to each other, what they were saying and their body language. For the most part everybody seemed to be honestly concerned (he noted, as he smirked wryly under his mask, that “honest” was being used very loosely here), but the English man (his name was Evans, if his memory served him correctly) seemed to be a little less stressed than the rest of the room. That was interesting, because even when he wasn’t involved in all the discussions, he seemed unmoved. Reaper decided he needed to have a talk with him, but later.

All that, had of course, led them to the current situation they were in now. People were still yelling and pointing fingers at each other - Evans managed to get in a word or two before sitting down and pretending to brood, probably to ensure nobody noticed he wasn’t quite as worried. Reaper also noticed that he was the only that mentioned an explosive being planted on the ship as it was heading here, and it being very fortunate that aforementioned explosive did not go off because it was diffused and thrown in the ocean - and Reaper, quite frankly, was tired. He felt that it was time to stop this nonsense. He had work to do and sitting here listening to these fools shrieking at each other was not going to solve anything.

“Enough,” he growled, and the room immediately fell silent. “I’m going to properly investigate this, and the moment I figure out who the traitor is I’ll get rid of them myself. Dismissed.”

He was standing up, getting ready to leave when one of them (Evans, he realised, going by the accent) had the nerve to ask him why he was the one that was releasing them, if he truly thought he was their boss. Reaper paused, already feeding off the fear in the room, before he turned his head, looking at him over his shoulder. “I’m the one that called this meeting, and seeing as none of you has offered anything constructive so far, I might as well dismiss it. Unless there’s something you’d like to tell me?”

Evans was silenced, sitting back down and licking his lips, and Reaper could tell everyone else was not amused at his mouthy behaviour. Neither was he, honestly, as he had said some very incriminating things, revealing details that nobody in the council should objectively know. Though nobody could see it through his mask, he narrowed his eyes, and after a few seconds of tense silence, Reaper continued on his way out frankly not giving a fuck about what these cowards were going to do from here. He had a lot work to do.

…

“Tell me about this shipment of yours that we busted our asses for it to be late. I want exact and specific details.”

Reaper had called up on Sombra and demanded access into her workspace. His seriousness must have carried over, because for once she hadn’t goofed off or pranked him. She had simply unlocked the door for him to enter and locked it again after she had entered. She minimised the holos she was looking at and brought up what he assumed would be relevant to the task at hand. Expanding them, she began explaining.

“The shipment was headed here with no problem. It was even ahead of schedule, until about three days before arrival, which translated to the other day, when an explosive was found on it. It was stuck on the payload itself, and it seemed to just automatically activate. Luckily there was someone on board who could defuse it and threw it into the ocean, which is really stupid because if they could have come with it then I could have had a look at it. Anyway, I got the message and immediately informed you and Doomfist. Nobody knows who put it there or who activated it, but it was definitely someone within Talon, because other than you,Doomfist, Widowmaker, and I, no one else knew about us bringing it over here.”

Reaper paused, contemplating a moment. That information was exactly what Evans at the meeting had said, word for word, and he was more than likely to trust Sombra’s information because despite the fact that she’s in this for her own interests, she takes her hacking and general information gathering very seriously. This is her entire reputation, and she doesn’t want it to be sullied. He had somewhat of an idea of who exactly in Talon would be the one behind it, but how exactly did  _ he  _ know? How could he have been aware that was the exact payload that they (or more specifically, Sombra) was interested in? That was a question he knew would not be easy to answer, but he probably knew talking to Evans would help out.

“Thank you,” he muttered. He stood up straight and headed out, leaving Sombra staring after him. It was time to go sleep. He would deal with Evans tomorrow.

…

“I - I swear, I don’t know anything. I have no reason to lie to you. P - Please don’t hurt me.”

Reaper glanced at the man cowering down in front of him, squeezed in the fetal position and trembling, looking at him through a bruised eyes and a busted lip, where he had slugged him with the butt of his shotgun and his fist respectively, then literally lifting him up as if he weighed as much as paper and threw him across the room, hearing him hitting the wall and falling down like a rag doll. The second he had walked into the office he noticed the imbecile was frantically deleting what looked like documentation and immediately closed the page when he realised who had just entered his office.

Or shadow stepped, in this case.

He was looking down at him, pointing the barrels of his shotgun at him, and he contemplated removing his mask, but the man would probably still be alive later, so it really wasn’t worth it. He knew this man knew about that botched bomb and the delay behind the transportation of the payload, and since normally diplomacy never quite worked with these people, he had decided force was the way to go.

After all, people always talked when they were in pain.

“If you’re going to lie to me at least make it believable. I don’t like repeating myself, and this is going to be the last time I ask these questions. Who planted that bomb on the payload? Who sent them? How are you involved?” Reaper snarled at him, watching his flinch and slightly look away, curling further into himself. He ran his tongue over his lips - flinching when he hit the cut - which a habit he had when he was trying to think of a lie to tell. Reaper had observed it before, and because today he didn’t have the time or the patience for this bullshit today, he decided he might as take this to the next level.

Reaper bent down and grabbed this idiot by his collar and roughly pushing him into the wall, something that was a combination of a whimper and a large whoosh of breath leaving him. His hands weakly grabbed at his wrist, twisting his fingers around the blades on his forearm. Reaper noticed the claws on his gloved ripped through the shirt, as he could feel them against each other. Reaper leaned in closer to Evans, to his ear.

“You were the only one who mentioned the bomb that was put on the payload on the engine. No one else knew about that bomb, except you. The only people in the entirety of Talon that knew about that mission were myself, Doomfist, Widowmaker and Sombra, because we are the ones that went to retrieve it or had prior information about the mission. We later told you when we got back, so how did you know that there was a bomb and that it was very close to exploding, and that it was defused and thrown into the ocean?” Despite how normal his growl sounded, he was fuming. Reaper normally was very in control of his emotions, but he absolutely abhorred it whenever people underestimated his intelligence.

Particularly if those people contributed almost abysmally to the general day to day running of Talon.

The man swallowed. Reaper could feel it in his chest.

“It was a coincidence. I just guessed it. I swear I have nothing to do with this mess.” He was nearly crying now, but Reaper didn’t believe him for a second.

“A little too accurate for a coincidence if we’re both being honest, hmm?” he pointed out, hearing the short gasp of surprise, or fear (he honestly didn’t care at this point) from the man. “I highly doubt I’ll get anything more substantial from you, so I might as well get rid of you now. I can trace your greed myself and eliminate your allies.”

He let go of him, watching him fall to the ground in a pitiful heap, blubbering for mercy or something of the sort. It was very unfortunate, as Reaper had run out of mercy years ago. He called in the Talon cleaning squad and shot him in the head, immediately killing him. He lowered his shotgun, looking down at the man with disgust, before clicking his tongue. He had to waste a whole bullet on this person and he wasn’t amused.

He turned around and started walking back to HQ. It was time to talk to Sombra and to Doomfist. It seemed they were going back to Kings Row.

…

Reaper wasn’t amused at all. He was in King’s Row, on one of the elevated balcony look alikes, crouching low, one of his shotguns on his shoulder, the other between his thighs. He was ready to turn into mist at any second, because his buddies that he was supposed to get rid of would be passing by here at any moment now. This was more of a stealth mission, and he had decided to inform Akande of it, then promptly inform him that he would be accompanying him to complete it, because he wasn’t going to suffer in fucking King’s Row alone. The subtle smirk that was Doomfist’s response almost made Reaper’s cock tear his pants off. Truly he had forgotten how gorgeous this man was. He had also informed him that he had gotten rid of Evans and why, and had asked him if he could get a replacement and write to the company telling them to bullshit something to anyone who would be concerned at his passing. Cleanup was working on disposing the body, or taking it back to his family, whichever would be most appropriate for the situation. None of that was his problem.

From there he had gone to Sombra, given her Evan’s full name, his age, his work and his historical facts and told her to dig up all the transactions he had participated in the recent past, and see if any of it connected to this payload. He also told her that he was the only one on the council that seemed to know about the bomb when no one else did, which was why he wanted the information he wanted. He needed names, because there were skulls that needed to be popped.

He had barely taken a couple of steps out when Sombra stopped him, pulling out most of the information he needed to know. She had pulled it all up for him to see and within about half an hour he already knew everything he needed to know. What would Talon be without Sombra? Not as efficient, is what, and he was particularly grateful for that at this point. It took him about half an hour to get all the names of the people who were involved in making his life a lot more difficult than it otherwise should be, and all of them were based in London, and they would be convening in King’s Row. There were only four important ones, and those were the ones he was going to get rid of. One of them was also on his personal assassinations list.

So, here he was, crouching on King’s Row, communicating with Doomfist to see how things were going on his end.

“Reaper,” he heard suddenly. “There are people coming my way, and they look like the guard that will be protecting your pals. I’m going to get rid of them. It seems like this is the exit they will be taking, since all of their cars are parked outside here.” 

Doomfist sounded bored. He could understand, they had been out here for what seemed like a long time. 

“Affirmative,” Reaper responded, turning his head slightly to see his victims passing by, laughing joyously. It was show time, then.

He let them pass, deciding it would be better if he dropped in from the back. He heard snippets of their conversation but zoned it all out, as they never seemed to be saying anything of substance or importance to him. His cells begun vibrating, before they turned into a misst and he launched off the ledge he was crouching on, landing behind them and within seconds they were lying at his feet in a pool of blood. He moved slightly out of the way, so that the blood never touched his boots. He was opening his mouth to ask Doomfist how he was doing, when he literally saw three bodies flying past him. Well, he supposed that was his answer then, he thought, his full lips curving into a smirk under his mask.

It was time to go back to the accommodation that Maximilien had arranged for them. Perhaps Doomfist was right, there were some tolerable omnics.

…

Reaper was just preparing to go to bed when he heard a knock on his door. He was about to tell them in no uncertain terms to go away because he didn’t want visitors when Doomfist promptly entered in the room, in his usual sleeping attire. However, he removed it all and was left with boxers and a t shirt. It took all of Reaper’s self control not to drop his gaze and ogle the front of aforementioned boxers.

“Good evening,  _ hermoso.  _ To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked dryly, pulling off the comforter and making himself comfortable in his bed. The sheets were very crisp. Maximilien had done a fantastic job. He made a mental note to thank him properly at the next council meeting. Doomfist smirked at him, joining him in the bed, and when he was comfortable enough he leant in, kissing him on the lips. Reaper found himself leaning into it, opening his mouth and tilting his head to deepen it. He felt Doomfist’s hand in his hair, as his own hand was on his lover’s chin as they made out, tongues sliding against each other and breathing out heavily from their noses, slow and sensual. Reaper felt like he could do this forever.

“I just wanted to cheer you up. You haven’t been in the good mood since we began this mission,” Doomfist responded, running the back of his knuckles on Reaper’s cheek.

“How considerate.”

Doomfist only gave him a moment because he was chuckling, but after that Reaper found himself on his lover’s lap, Doomfist’s mouth on his neck, nipping and biting as he kissed his way down. He felt himself get hard, one hand clutching his forearm like a vice, the other one wrapped around his broad shoulders, before remembering he’s  a super soldier, and as durable as his lover is he still shouldn’t get carried away. He did let out a long moan though, as lecherous as it was loud and ground himself down into Doomfist.

Doomfist, in turn, growled in his neck, running his hands down his lover’s sides, getting to his hips and gripping them. He bit down on his shoulder,  causing Reaper to swear in Spanish, his hips bucking into him, his hand on his arm pressing so hard Doomfist was sure he was cutting blood flow. He wasn’t sure what Reaper was muttering, but he was quite sure that he had his name somewhere in there, and he couldn’t help but smile in his neck. He listed his lips from his lover’s skin, before whispering in his ear, making sure his voice was sensual.

“Turn around for me,  _ ololufe,  _ on your hands and knees, bum up.”

Reaper shuddered, and he was sure his erection was hardening at an embarrassingly fast rate. He, however, obeyed, and turned around to get into the position his lover had asked of him, making sure to strip naked in the process. He was never self conscious of his body - he is a super soldier after all, and being undead aside, he knew he had aged  _ very  _ well over the years - so he made sure to just calm down and turn around, try to hide his erection as his mind raced at all the possibilities of what Doomfist was going to do to him tonight, and all of them were good.

Doomfist was sure he was going to orgasm on the spot if Reaper continued responding to him like this. He noticed that slight shudder, quick and intense, passing over his body, and when he paused to take off his clothes, Doomfist had to drop his gaze to his hands, staring at them and thinking about the mission, and how he intended to continue his quest on creating a war for the evolution of mankind. He quite didn’t want to think of how Reaper’s muscles shifted when he moved, the slight smoke raising for him person, of how he was made of nothing but lean, streamlined and defined muscle. His dick was threatening to rip out of his boxers just thinking about it. Actually seeing it would cause mayhem in his own body.

As Reaper got into position - he was already hard. Doomfist could see it - he leaned back to get the lube, , but he paused for a moment after he got it. He put it next to him before leaning back again, in his other pocket and removed the massaging lotion he had brought. On retrospect, he was grateful for it, because perhaps it would help his lover relax a little bit.

He spread the lotion on his hands, and begun with his shoulders, kneading and pressing the tension away. He was sure he heard Reaper sigh, as his body relaxed under him, the tension literally dissolving from his muscles, and for a moment Doomfist took this opportunity to smile softly. Reaper never had the time to be relaxed, he very rarely had the time to just let go and relax, and Doomfist loved these moments the most because then his lover could just relax and enjoy himself. He loved these intimate settings they could share, even if it was only going to be for a couple of hours.

Reaper was rapidly ascending into bliss. His lover’s large,warm hands on his shoulders, down his back, massaging that warm oil felt nothing short of phenomenal. He closed his eyes and concentrated only on that, feeling his body relax, focusing on the feel of his lover’s hands running down his back, his sides, his thighs. That felt so good, so relaxing. He had really missed this, just being intimate with Doomfist. 

Suddenly he jumped, feeling fingers in his bumbole, a cold, thick liquid on them, and he  _ moaned _ again, long, low and deep at how he was stretched by his lover’s index finger, long and thick. He wasn’t sure whether it was subconscious or not, but he clenched around the digit, wiggling his bum a little bit, wanting more, but understanding that it would take time. It had been a while since his lover had made love to him after all.

Doomfist chuckled quietly, watching how impatient Reaper was for him. Just as slowly, he pulled his finger out, then pushed it back in. He was dangerously hard to the point where it was painful, leaking even and he honestly wanted to fuck Reaper sore, but he had to prepare him first, make sure they both enjoyed this experience as much as possible. He added a second finger, pushing in as far as he could go, and he was sure that his lover actually  _ whimpered,  _ his entire body moving in rhythm with his fingers. It was such a beautiful sight to behold, as far as Akande was concerned. He absolutely loved his his lover responded to him, how intense he was, how he was so honest and forthright with his body and never held anything back. He paused for a moment, wanting to gauge whether Reaper was ready for him. As much as he was enhanced and very durable, he still loved him very much and didn’t want to cause him any pain.

“Please,” he had Reaper gasp. Well, he supposed it was time.

Removing his fingers, he gripped his hips, lining himself at Reaper’s bum and in one smooth thrust, pushed right in, both of them gasping at the same time. He paused again, getting them both accustomed to each other, and the moment Reaper relaxed around he pulled out gently, before pushing back in. Doomfist set a rhythm, allowing Reaper to move with him, as he leaned over his back, wrapping his hands around him, planting soft kisses at the back of his neck and in between his shoulder blades. He saw how Reaper clenched the sheets like his life depended on it, and Doomfist reached forward, taking his cock, hot and hard and thick, and heavily leaking in his hand. Reaper growled at the first stroke, and going by how his whole body was tightening and his thighs were trebling, Doomfist knew he was almost there.

Reaper’s mind was so fogged up with lust at this point that he could barely form any cognitive thought. All he could recognise was his lover above him, thrusting in and out of him and stroking his cock with every thrust. It was so smooth and gentle, yet so deep and fulfilling. Reaper was sure Doomfist had hit his prostate with every stroke and it was a pleasure he had missed experiencing.

“I’m gonna -” It wasn’t long before Reaper bit his lip and came with a snarl, spilling himself all over Doomfist’s hand, his hips bucking and twitching, watching his seed flow down onto his legs. Doomfist managed a couple more stoked before he came with a growl on Reaper’s back, spilling himself inside him and trembling slightly, allowing both of them to experience his orgasm. He paused, regulating his breathing a while, before slowly pulling out and falling back, pulling Reaper with him and covering them both with the covers.

Reaper turned to face him, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for that. I needed it.”

Doomfist smiled back, snuggling in his neck.

“Aren’t going to shower though? You’re always complai-”

“Shut the fuck up and go to sleep, Reaper.”

Reaper laughed, before turning back and going to sleep. He could work with that.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry this took 55 years to complete, but here it is. I hope you enjoyed it, and I know for sure I'll be writing more for this ship in the future, so stay tuned!


End file.
